The First Time I Loved Forever
by BookRose
Summary: When Claire Chandler suffers the devastating loss of two of her best friends in 3 months, its all she can do to keep going. But when she goes off to college in NYC to be closer to her cousin, could history repeat itself with the same ruinous consequences?
1. Feels Like Heaven

The First Time I Loved Forever

_**Chinatown Philadelphia, 1983**_

_**May 9**_

_It was a bright, cheerful sunny day for the residents of the Chinatown in the City of Brotherly Love. The entire town was busy preparing for the Dragon Boat Festival; streamers went up, decorations were painted, the traditional _Zongzi _lotus leaf dumplings were prepared and the guest of honor, the Dragon himself, was rehearsing for that night's dragon parade. And yet life went on as usual; Dragon Boys pushed their way through the crowd, the ever-present reminder to those Chinese citizens that if they valued their lives, they'd better watch it._

_But for two extraordinary people, life seemed to brim over with joy and blissful ecstasy. But that is usually the case concerning couples deeply in love._

"So, is that a maybe-yes, or a maybe-maybe?"

"It's a…maybe-yes."

"Maybe Friday night then?" he asked hopefully.

"We're not talking about when," she stated firmly. "We're still in different types of maybe."

"I've known you since I was twelve; maybe I can convince you to speed things up a little bit? Huh?" Grinning he leaned in for a kiss.

"Don't kiss me so close to your father's store," she chided gently. It was imperative they keep their love a secret in a culture still firmly grounded in tradition and societal customs as ancient as China itself.

"Don' worry, he's not the jealous type," he flippantly replied.

"I know exactly what your father thinks of me."

"If my father knew you, he'd like you even more than he likes me," he responded seriously, stopping to fully face her.

"You're just trying to change my maybe-yes into a yes-yes," she noted flirtatiously with a gleam in her eye.

He truly hadn't, but the prospect wasn't a bad one. He grinned impishly. "Is it working?"

She laughed then, about to respond when she caught sight of the dragon. Rehearsal had begun.

"I gotta go. They're starting without me. Are you coming tomorrow night?"

"You've been practicing all week; I'm not going to miss it."

"Okay," she replied softly.

"Hey lovebirds, before you part…" said a voice behind them.

"**THINK FAST!" **It screamed demonically into their ears.

"Aaahh!" They screamed simultaneously.

Abruptly turning, they screamed again as they saw a dragon mask only inches away from their faces.

"Hey!" he snapped, still freaked out. "Don't **do** that!"

A feminine face emerged from behind the outlandish dragon mask, laughing so hard, tears started to stream down her face.

"Oh, you should have seen your faces," she gasped.

"It's not that funny, Claire," Tam Sung said crossly. "I would have thought by now, you would be a little more mature than that, considering that you've been fourteen for awhile now."

"You're one to talk, Tammy," she grinned. "Besides, what's a practical joke between friends every now and then?"

"This is all your fault." She turned on her boyfriend and mock punched him. "You're a bad influence, and that twisted sense of humor of yours has corrupted her so much that now she never stops."

"Hey now, I only do it after you two-"

"Furthermore," she pressed on, as though the other girl hadn't said a word. "It's starting to get really old. Maybe we should call a truce."

She laughed. "Oh, Tammy," she chuckled. "I would, but I know you too well. As soon as I'm out of earshot, you and Jack will start plotting with that one-mind thing you guys do and you'll try and get back at me. You'll _try_ to top this."

"Oh, please," he rolled his eyes_. _"What's with this 'try'? _Of course _we'll top this. This is kid stuff. Anyway, don't we always?" he grinned at his girl.

"Oh, whatever," she grumbled, still annoyed. "Thanks to you, I'm later now for the Dragon Boat rehearsal than I was-"

"Two minutes ago," Claire replied smugly. "But by all means, don't let me keep you. I'm just the best friend who hasn't seen you since yesterday."

"Oh, you're so dramatic," she scoffed, laughing.

"Seriously though, Tammy, you should go," she smiled, leaning over to embrace her. "You're so lucky to be part of this tradition and I'm so proud to have such a talented and amazing friend. Oh, I just _so _can't wait 'til this is for real! You should be going now, though," she added.

Touched, Tammy smiled back and said, "You know, Claire, I can't wait 'til it's for real either. I'm looking forward to seeing you there." She smiled at their little group. "Both of you. But I gotta go." She smirked at her lover. "Look out, your cousin's coming."

Sure enough, little Warren Lee came barreling through as soon as Tammy Sung departed.

"Hey Jack, I just won twenty dollars!"

"They let you in the casino?"

"I was outside, playing dice."

"You're supposed to be watching your little sister," he reminded him.

Before Warren could reply, one of the Dragon Boys shoved through the group and would have successfully knocked Claire off her feet if Jack hadn't reached out and grabbed her arm in time.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Warren exclaimed boldly.

All of them went still with dread as the gang member flashed them his gun, tucked securely in the front of his trousers.

"Excuse us," Jack spoke, nervously using the local dialect. "Have a good day," he added sarcastically in English.

Shaking off the chill, Claire tried to diffuse the tension.

"So… think your dad has any new shipments of that tea in yet?"

"Hey Pops," Jack called as they entered his father's store, Hong's and Long's. His father looked up briefly before turning back to his current "customer."

"Thank you; this orange tree will bring us luck."

The man at the counter didn't say a word, merely took the money and gave the teenagers a condescending smirk before leaving the store.

"Why do you even bother buying the tree? Why don't you just give them the cash?" Jack joked good-naturedly.

"The tree brings us luck," his brother answered for their father, his tone hard.

"Brings us flies," he responded glibly.

"You're already late; haven't you insulted me enough today?" his father fumed.

"Come on, I was kidding," Jack placated. "Dad!" he pleaded, as his father huffed and promptly disappeared into the back of the store.

Sighing, he exchanged a defeated look with his friend. "I can't do anything right," he mouthed.

His brother gave him a warning look. "Hope you're kidding about that girl. If Dad finds out, he'll have a stroke."

His brow furrowed as though he were actually thinking about it.

"What's he going to do when I marry her?" he asked facetiously.

Unable to contain herself, Claire burst into laughter.

"Wow! Oh, Jack, that was perfect timing." She chuckled mischievously. "Hilarious because it's true."

"It has been known to happen," he replied deviously.

Ling Lu looked back and forth between the both of them, looking absolutely flabbergasted. And, truth be told, a little panicked.

"Keep your voices down! And don't talk about that! Marriage is-"

"Serious," he finished, giving his brother an ironic look.

Older brother and younger brother stared at each other for a second before they both started laughing.

"You're a little punk," Ling lectured, still smiling. "You need to grow up." He shoved Jack's work clothes at him.

"Why, 'cause you make it seem like so much fun?" Jack taunted.

Ling didn't have an answer for that.

Still laughing, he turned to his best friend. "So, Claire, you want to come behind the counter today?"

"Really? What would your father have to say to that?"

"He'd say, 'My, how good it is to see my son acting so responsibly for once and studying as he should-regardless of the company.'" He winked at her. "And then he'd say-"

"'Don't forget to watch the store!'" they finished together.

"So, he really doesn't mind then, if we study there instead of our usual spot?"

"Ling's gotta go unload the new shipments; who else do you think is going to cater to the customers?"

"Okay then, let's get started on English, that'll be the easiest to do…"

"No," Jack objected. "We should get the math out of the way because it's the hardest, we've talked about this before…"

"Hey, you want me to walk you to the bus stop?"

"That's a good idea," she agreed. "I don't like the looks of tonight," she added, apprehensively eyeing the group of men across the street.

"Don't look at them," Jack warned. "It'll bring them right over."

"I can't help it," Claire confessed quietly as they started to walk away. "It's like, if I take my eyes off them for one second, they'll take us by a nasty surprise."

"I know what you mean," he agreed, increasing the pace. "That still doesn't change the fact that they need very little excuse to start something. Especially with a pretty little tourist like you."

"Oh, don't give me that crap, Jack," she replied irritably.

"What, about you being pretty?"

"No, the part about me being a tourist. I've been regularly coming to Chinatown since I was eight. In fact, I practically grew up here! I hardly think I qualify as a tourist anymore."

"Claire, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you'll **always** be a tourist. If there's one thing China's known for, it's that Chinese are Chinese and outsiders are outsiders."

She was silent for a moment. "Yeah," she said quietly. They didn't say anything else until they reached the street outside of Chinatown.

"Jack?" she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I think we're being followed."

A surreptitious glance backward proved she was right. A good-looking man with dark, shoulder-length wavy hair and a martial artist's build was nonchalantly following them. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Why the heck is _he_ the one following us? Didn't think he'd have time to fit us into that busy schedule of his."

"Dang it, why can't he leave me alone?" she fumed.

"You mean this is an everyday thing?" he asked sharply.

"No, not often enough to be everyday," she answered bitterly. "I think he's too smart for that. No, usually when I'm least expecting it, he'll pop out of an alleyway or 'just be happening' to leave the same store I'm crossing at that exact moment, and then I'll feel his eyes on my neck for the rest of the time I'm in Chinatown. Or out."

"Or out?"

"I never see him once I'm out of Chinatown, but I don't know if he really is still following me or if I've gotten so paranoid that I imagine he is. Either way, I still have this heavy cloud of dread hanging over my head until the next day."

"Do you think he knows where you live?"

"I can't be sure. It always looks like I'm able to ditch him before coming home, but there's no way of knowing for sure. God, he gives me the creeps."

"Has he ever said anything to you?"

"No. We've never spoken, not once. It seems strange to me that he's so interested in me but has never come up to me and told me so. At least if he did that, maybe he wouldn't weird me out so much."

"It's probably just a scare tactic," Jack answered, but even he didn't look convinced.

"Why am I so interesting anyway?" she demanded. "I mean, I'm not rich, or outgoing, or some social butterfly. I'm not a Chinese woman, in any sense of the word. Why in the world is his attention on me?"

"Beats me; maybe he likes you," he offered.

"We've never even met!" she growled in frustration.

"Since when has that ever mattered? Look, I'm not saying I've read his mind; I'm just trying to make sense of it as much as you are. Offering an educated guess, you might say."

"Well, here's an educated guess of my own: Maybe he doesn't like it that the three of us are so cozy together. I mean, it can't be a good thing for China gangs if the people they 'protect', so freely befriend us _lo fan_," she snorted derisively.

"Oh come off it; you don't really believe any modern Chinese people still use that term, do you?"

"How am I supposed to know? For all you know, everybody but you still think of people like me in that way. And who can blame them?"

"Anyone still narrow-minded enough to keep the prejudices of the old people don't deserve to be taken seriously. If you can't appreciate the here and now and just enjoy life, why are you here?"

"What prejudices?" she scoffed. "If I was alive and Chinese during the time your parents first came here, well…I don't know if I could have withstood half the things they had to endure. Why do people set out to deliberately hurt each other?"

"What do I look like, Confucius?" he asked. "All that's in the past," he said reasonably. "You can't stay stuck in the past if you lived it, and you can't stick yourself in the past just because it would please an elder. Live for today, 'cause it's never coming back. And tomorrow…well it could be anything. It's a fresh, brand-new day that should be celebrated."

"Jack…" she cautioned.

"What?"

"Try to keep your voice down. There's no way of knowing if we ditched him or if he's just hiding in the shadows."

Needless to say, it was a huge relief to get to the bus stop and see a bus waiting there for them.

"Hey," Jack took hold of her arm. "You won't forget to come tomorrow?"

"Of course I'll come! What could possibly keep me away?" Her expression grew wistful. "You know something Jack?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

She rolled her eyes. "I was actually going to say that someday, I hope I meet someone who feels for me what you feel for Tammy. Until you guys got together, I didn't really realize how great love could be."

"It's…something that's hard to describe, hard to put your finger on. Everything about it is true…and, at the same time, it's not." His eyes met hers and in that moment, she was startled to find that the emotion she found in them was too powerful to read easily. "There's no doubt about it; I've found the girl of my dreams and I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"I can see that," she said softly. "I've never seen this before, not even with my own parents. You know," she laughed lightly. "When it's been fifty years and your kids have started having grandkids-" she snickered. "You guys will probably be old and senile, but you'll still win the award for 'Most in Love Couple.' She'll be the sweet old lady who still makes the best won-tons and green tea, and you'll be the devoted husband who's still so smitten with her, you're totally oblivious to the fact that you've been her slave for the past fifty years."

"A slave? I resent that!"

"No really, this will be you guys when you're old and wrinkled. Tammy will greet guests at the door and say 'Welcome, dear friends! Please make yourselves comfortable. Jack!'" she imitated shrilly, mimicking Tammy perfectly. "'I thought I told you to weed out the bok choi and the chive gardens!""

"Hey!"

"And then you'll shuffle in, all apologetic, and say, 'Yes dear. Right away, dumpling.'"

"You're such a dork!" And then he tackled her, tickling her until she was gasping for breath.

"Besides," he sniffed casually, after they'd regained their composure. "'Dumpling' is a stupid pet name. She's my _bao-bao._"

"Doesn't that translate to darling?" She beamed at him. "Seriously though," she said in all seriousness. "I can't wait for the next couple of years. By the time high school's over and done with, you'll be ready to marry. I can see the long, happy life you'll have together and I just can't _wait_ to live it."

**A/N: Hello all! I left this author's note out the first time because I realized that I would upload the new and improved chapter later and it might need explanation, but I also thought that I would have received a review by now. I was hoping to have at least one since I updated, but since I have to resort to begging (LOL) I'll just say this: I will update this story no matter what, and at least at first it will be happening frequently, because I am getting a lot of inspiration for it and it's become a pet project right next to another one. I would appreciate a few reviews in the meantime and it would probably help me update faster. Thanks a bunch and I'll see everyone at the next scheduled update! **


	2. Against All Odds

_**May 12**_

"This can't be happening."

Even though she had whispered the words, it felt like they had been said through an amplifier, making them ring in her ears, until she had the strongest urge to clap her hands over her ears.

He didn't say a word in response. His lips were pressed tight, his face ashen, eyes staring straight at nothing, and his entire posture stiff and tightly strung.

And she wasn't doing very well at all either. She tried not to dwell on the reason why….

_**2 days earlier**_

"_Wow! This is like totally amazing!" Claire bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, as hyper as a kindergartner on a sugar high._

_Joe Sung smiled warmly down at her, amused at her childlike wonder. "It warms my heart to see you so excited, Miss Chandler. Is this your first Dragon Boat Festival?"_

_She looked a little sheepish. "Well actually Mr. Sung, It's not my _very_ first, but it's one of a few I've been able to attend. I guess it's obvious I haven't celebrated many Chinese holidays, huh?"_

"_But that is quite alright!" he enthused. "It is always a pleasure to meet young people that are so thirsty for knowledge about our culture. You know," he added. "It is rare even to see such passion for the Chinese way even from my own countrymen, who have known it all their lives."_

"_I guess Mr. Sung that they are probably used to it. To me, it's new and exciting, each new thing I learn about is like a present at Christmas." She thought for a moment. "It's not weird for me to be that way, is it?"_

_Before Mr. Sung could reply the head of the Dragon came into view and there Tammy was, in her ceremonial costume, supporting part of the body. Both her friend and father started waving energetically to get her attention. She beamed back at them before turning back to the ceremony. Everything seemed so perfect at that moment. To Claire, it was as though nothing could spoil this night. _

_Why did she have to be so wrong?_

_Suddenly, loud, metallic shots rang out, effectively ending the party and sending the citizens into a panic. And it didn't take long to spot the lone casualty lying prone on the ground; a single bullet had struck her heart, stealing her life in one tragic instant. _

"_Tammy! TAMMY!" She screamed, feeling a sickening futility grow in the pit of her stomach._

_No sooner had Claire laid eyes on her, Jack made his entrance. He threw himself over her before gathering her in his arms as though protecting her. Claire was quite sure she had never seen anything so heartbreaking. Their love had been precious and new, and now they had been unfairly torn apart. _ Oh Jack,_ she thought bleakly._ You're too late.

"_I'm here. Baby, you're okay," he was saying. He shook her, as though trying to wake her up. "You're okay." _

_In his eyes, Claire saw her own feelings reflected in his, for even as she and Mr. Sung ran towards the couple, she felt herself balking at the truth of what was right in front of her. Every inch of her being insisted that no, Tammy couldn't be dead, it was impossible that someone so young and vibrant could be walking, talking and laughing one minute and the next, bloodied and still. _

"_No!" Mr. Sung cried. He reached out, taking ahold of his daughter's body as Jack numbly gave her over. "No, no! God, no!" he wept, cradling his daughter close. _

"_Tammy…," she whimpered, feeling the hot tears flood her eyes. Tentatively, she reached out and smoothed her hair. "Please sweetie, wake up. Oh wake up, please!" she sobbed._

_Suddenly Ling was right there beside them, looking around nervously and trying to get Jack's attention._

"_We gotta get out of here!"_

"_Go without me," he responded listlessly. _

"_The police are coming!" he insisted._

"_I saw them," Jack continued. "Three guys with masks, dragon tattoos, one of them had an Uzi." He looked to his brother, pleading with him. "We gotta tell somebody!"_

_Ling stared down at him. "You keep your mouth shut," he replied coldly._

"_Ling, can't he stay here? Please, you know how important he was to her…" Claire tearfully implored._

"_That's neither here or there," he answered shortly. "Our parents want him home and we can't chance the police finding us here. Get up Jack!" _

"_We gotta tell somebody-"_

"_Get up, get up!" he urged, practically dragging him to his feet. The two of them ran off into the night, leaving the other two alone with their loss._

_**Present day, May 12**_

Sitting now in the funeral parlor, Claire worked hard to keep from crying or fidgeting. If she could successfully imitate a statue, she would not only be able get through Tammy's wake, but also avoid embarrassing Tammy's parents and Jack. All of them needed the consideration of friends who were sensitive to the situation at that moment. Dignity and consideration were the least she could do for Mr. and Mrs. Sung. But Jack especially needed all of that, plus her strength, having lost his high school sweetheart, considering that he would be a mess for the next couple of….how long? Months, years?

Decades?

What was it like for them to lose their only child?

Unconsciously she let herself unfocus, allowing the Taoist words from the monk to simply wash over her, so that she could drift into a numbing void. It was better than the alternative, anyway. Before either of them realized it, the funeral was over and everyone around them was getting up either to offer condolences one last time or to leave the small family to their grief.

* * *

They were both silent as they walked the streets. The funeral had ended hours ago and now they were just walking up one street of Chinatown and down another.

"I know they killed her," he said suddenly.

She only nodded.

"I'm gonna prove it too. One way or another, my Tam will get justice."

Claire gave him a long, hard look. "You better, Jack," she said quietly. "You better. The last thing Tammy needs is to be packaged and shelved as just another Chinatown cold case."

"I'll need your help."

"Yes," she responded. "And you have it."

Neither of them were aware of just what they were getting into.


	3. Don't Talk to Strangers

_**June 6**_

Once again, a month later, it was that time of the week for Hong's and Long's Groceries.

"Thank you. This tree will bring us much luck," he said humbly, differentiating to the same gangster as before.

He said something non-committal and started to leave.

Claire did not have a grasp of the Chinese language at all. In fact, the only sounds she could make out sounded like, _"Al la da bo kim."_ However, she hadn't been born yesterday. She could tell by his tone that whatever he had said hadn't been at all respectful or courteous. It had been rather glib and dismissive actually. As far as she knew, one of the most important aspects of being Chinese was the respect and reverence you automatically differed to your elders. So why did this man act as though those rules were suddenly non-existent and he could treat everyone, including those older than him, as he pleased? It was rubbing her the wrong way.

And she wasn't the only one. Jack's eyes betrayed the fact that he was barely holding back the full force of his fury as he boldly stepped up.

"We don't want your orange tree."

He turned back and scoffed. "Your pop already paid me; see you next week."

"I said we don't want your stupid tree!" he snarled, shoving the fragile potted plant at him.

He looked incredulous. "You're kidding, _right_! he shouted, shoving it right back.

"Jack-!" Ling gasped, trying to hold onto the plant before it fell to the floor.

"I apologize for my son-"

"We're not paying for your junk anymore!" Jack declared vehemently.

Enraged, the gang member hauled off and knocked him down.

"Jack!" Claire cried.

Furious, and looking ready to kill him, he reached down and savagely pulled him up.

"No!" Claire shrieked, throwing herself in front of Jack. "No, don't hurt him! _**Don't hurt-"**_

"_Ah ha wah!" _

Everybody looked up and froze.

He spoke again, but once more, everybody knew what he was saying but her.

When no one answered he elaborated in English. "What's going on here?"

_What are you DOING here? _Claire thought resentfully. For it was the very same man who had been following her everywhere for months on end.

Mr. Lu spoke first.

"Bo-Lin, we are fortunate you came when you did! My son thanks you."

As the lackey slunk out the door, Bo-Lin's eyes focused on Jack and took on a predatory gleam.

"Does he now?" He began to circle Jack, his eyes never leaving him. "Well. He has my most sincere welcome."

"Yeah, that's a stretch," Claire muttered.

He glanced up. "What was that?" he asked casually.

"I said, 'You must be a catch.'" She smiled sweetly, but cringed as soon as he was looking the other way. _Why? WHY did I have to say that? Now I'll never get rid of him!_

"Nice save," Jack muttered sarcastically.

"You know Lu," Bo-Lin was saying, "I didn't realize your sons had made friends outside of Chinatown."

"_Son," _Mr. Lu corrected. "And it's an abnormality I tolerate because it is both good for business and good for Jack Chao's education."

"His education? How so?" he murmured, no longer looking at the store owner, but her now.

"They study together and his grades have been acceptable as a result," he answered shortly.

His gaze was piercing, making her want to squirm. She stared right back though, refusing to break contact as much as he did.

"Well," he said quietly after staring for a few minutes. "How very productive of your son. However, it might be good for the girl to learn a few things about our ways. I can see she is…high-spirited," he chuckled. "It is obvious to everyone here that she very Western and nothing but American."

She found her lips curving into a mocking smile. "Well, at least you are right about that, Mr. Bo-Lin Chen. I'm _very_ Western in my beliefs. I wear pants and even have a mind of my own. But I'm confused as to why you would say 'nothing but' American. What else would I be and why? You know, I've noticed that even though this Chinatown exists here in Philadelphia, an American city, things happen here that would only happen over in China. Like a holiday cut short by gunfire and dead bodies." She eyed him shrewdly.

"You are right, young lady. Gangs truly are terrible for Chinatown. I'm always trying to help our elders cleanse the city of them."

"Are you? Ever since I started visiting, I've noticed that the gangs never fade off and leave people alone, they actually get stronger and do things that are even worse than what was done before. How does a gang's increasing members and violence mean a cleansing?"

He smirked in seeming amusement. "You certainly ask a lot of questions young one."

"Yes I do. And I've received a few answers on the way. Such as the fact that there will be no cleansing because the gangs presence benefits those in power more than it disadvantages. I've realized that your bosses prefer to treat the people of Chinatown as though they were actually Chinese citizens in China. So know this: I don't buy any of your utter bull-crap and I can see you for what you really are: A deceptive, poisonous snake. I at least, realize where I live. At least I have values and morals. I _earn_ what is mine," she carefully emphasized. "And I do it honestly."

There was dead silence for several minutes.

"I see," he responded quietly. "Well there is certainly no shame in being proud of your heritage. As for you Lu," he stated, rounding on the old man. "I hope your son learns the meaning of prudence and discretion the next time my man comes in. My generosity is boundless but my leniency is granted usually…once. I will not react so benevolently next time."

With that, he left the shop, taking a small sack of almonds with him.

As he left, everyone in the shop resumed doing everything they normally did, but the tension never left. In fact, it intensified as the minutes passed.

"Dad?" Jack asked timidly.

"I do not wish to speak to you," he replied coldly, turning away to his records.

"Dad, this isn't right! It's never been right to let others walk all over us, taking all we have and threatening our lives-"

"That is enough, Jack." He had not shouted, but tone suggested he was dangerously close to losing his temper. "I hope you will soon learn to accept the way things are for what they are. And in the meantime, learn to bring this family honor, by learning your place as well. I do not need this disobedience or rebellion shaming me, disgracing our ancestors. And as for you," he turned to Claire. "You are no longer welcome in this store. I am not able to forbid my son from associating with you, but from this moment on, whenever you visit Chinatown, my shop will be locked against you."

"What? But Dad-"

A dark look from his father abruptly cut him off.

She looked evenly at the old man. "I respect your decision Mr. Lu. I happen to agree that it's not a good idea for me to be here and I'm sorry that I caused for myself such a low opinion from you, but given recent events, I think your decision is for the best. I wish you good luck in all your endeavors."

With that, she left the store.

As she started walking in the direction of the street vendors, she felt something strong and forceful suddenly grab her shoulders and turn her around.

"Why?" Jacks face was inches away from hers, his eyes revealing everything from hurt to confusion, as well as some anger.

"_Why!" _he demanded, louder this time. "Why did you just give up so easily? You should be allowed in that store just as much as anybody!"

She sighed. "Because Jack, it really is for the best. I can't do you any good in there helping trouble along. After all, does it really matter where we hang out? He did say that we can still be friends." When he still looked skeptical, she sighed again. "Look Jack, think about it; is there anything in that store, that points towards Tammy's murder? Will we find anything special in there that points to what happened? No! Of course not, because anyone who was responsible for it is no longer in there. Her murder didn't happen there. You can still make trouble for her killers and your father will never kick you out. It's logical that he takes his frustrations out on me. Come to think of it, he was kinda nice about it. For him." She looked at him. "I know you know this Jack. And I know that we need to get searching. Maybe the police will be willing to help now that someone from Chinatown is actually willing to come forward."


	4. Smooth Criminal

_**July 11**_

In recent weeks, Claire Chandler had taken up the recent habit of wandering the streets of Philadelphia aimlessly. It served no purpose, never made her feel anything other than the despair that had plagued her since losing one of her best friends, but at the same time, it was like she could do nothing else.

The police were no help. The force of that ugly truth had hit her like a freight train, leaving her empty and vulnerable to the utter harshness of life she had never seen before. Oh they would help, they said, they were trying to do everything they could, they said but the crime in Chinatown was slippery and it was almost impossible to bring justice to a town where the residents wouldn't help and don't you have better things to do little girl?

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered because the men who killed her were secure in their freedom; the system in Chinatown had been working far longer than the police force in the US of A. How did one obtain justice within the Justice System if nobody ever did their part and willingly let evil roam the streets?

_Speaking of evil…_She stopped, watching the scene a few blocks ahead of her.

There were a couple of Dragon Boys up ahead, loitering and heckling tourists as usual, but that wasn't what kept her attention. Jack was approaching them, his usual expression of loathing reserved for them, deepening until it was a cross between a smirk of defiance and a smoldering glare of hatred.

His face twisted into something absolutely feral as he pulled a knife and stuck it in the face of a random Dragon Boy.

"Whoa! What's this, then?" asked the unknown gangster with a disingenuous mix of surprise and "fear." The rest of them snickered.

"Well gee, I thought if anyone around here would know a weapon when they saw one, it would be the all mighty 'Dragon Boys,'" he sneered. "This kinda thing must happen to you every day right? Having a weapon shoved in your face I mean?" he added. His tone turned from false friendliness to dark at once. "Here's what I want, hotshot," he snarled. "Tell me which one of you shot the girl during the Dragon Festival and I won't take as many of you as I can with me when you shoot me dead. I can at least get one; the rest of you…" he tisked. "Well the expression, 'a face only a mother could love' comes to mind."

At this they all started laughing before they abruptly stopped, realizing he was serious. At once they seemed to become darkness personified, their expressions turning malignant as they began to close in on her friend.

Claire was having none of it; she was sick to death of the Chinatown gangs keeping people down and stomping on whoever stood up to them. If she had her way, today she would stomp back, kicking them where it hurt.

As she marched angrily up to the arrogant little punks, a car came out of nowhere and suddenly, it was _her friend_ being arrested instead of the punks who caused the trouble! Shocked, she watched the unmarked car drive off before she found herself trembling, feeling the rage inside of her expand like molten lava. All the injustice she had seen and endured for the sake of her friends rose up in her, giving her unnatural strength and a twisted need for blood. _Their_ blood.

She erupted, running and screaming at them, hitting them like a whirlwind. Biting, clawing, kicking, she even took a book and swung it at them, cracking several heads.

She came at them full force, surprising even herself with how hard she was hammering down on them.

"_Get out!" _she screeched. "Get out and take your terror tactics, your violence and your _unending evil _**and leave good people alone!"**

They were surprised. Completely forgetting they had weapons of their own, they fled the scene, some of them looking back over their shoulders in terror.

As they ran off she blinked, feeling as though she were deflating. Her head was clearing, and the last few moments were starting to hit home. _She _had just whipped the butts of some of the most dangerous men in Philly. Her. She started laughing, exhilaration rising up in her. _That _would teach those bullies what for!

But then something was pulled over her head and as she struggled, a cloth was clamped over her nose, the smell of it forcing her to lose consciousness….

When she came to, she looked up to find none other than Bo Lin Chen smirking down at her.

"Ah, there you are, Miss Chandler. We meet again. Allow me to formally introduce myself; I am Bo Lin Chen, the mediator and counselor between the American police force and the humble citizens of Chinatown. Is there anything I can get for you? Tea? Fortune cookies? Maybe some won tons?"

She wanted to snap at him, wipe that insufferable grin off his face, but as she tried to, she was overcome with an overwhelming dizziness as she came to her feet. She gasped, feeling strangely tired and out of breath. It was so strong she thought she would pass out again. She forced herself to stay on her feet, staggering at the lack of strength in her legs.

"What…" she wheezed. "What have you done to me?"

His smirk widened. "Nothing serious, Miss Chandler. Just some old-fashioned chloroform so that you wouldn't put up a fight. I couldn't trust you after you chased my boys away so easily."

She glared at him, feeling the remnants of her previous fury smolder within her.

"I don't put up with bullies," she stated coldly. "And I put up even less with killers. You and yours can gloat about putting one over on the American justice system, but trust me, it won't last forever. We take law-breaking here in the States very seriously and sooner or later, the legal system will find a way through your loopholes and your scare tactics. It may not be today, but someday, swift and terrible justice will come to men like you who victimize innocent people." Her eyes narrowed. "I hope I'm there to see it."

In response, he laughed.

"You are very bold, aren't you Miss Chandler? And adorably naïve." He sighed. "I suppose it is to be expected. Everybody thinks we'll be caught and justice will be served. Now don't get me wrong. I completely understand everything." At her skeptical look he took up a defensive stance. "No really, I do! You see, I am a very observant person. Always have been, so it wouldn't surprise you to know-"

"Nothing about you surprises me, Mr. Chen," she snapped. "Particularly, that crap about you being observant. I already noticed your "observances" happen to be all about following me everywhere. It's a very obvious intimidation tactic and if the last few times weren't a clue, it's not working."

He was stunned, absolutely stunned. To his credit however, he recovered very quickly, his smile beatific and pleasant, if a little forced.

"Ha, ha. I see Miss Chandler, that you are determined to be disagreeable."

"Well too bad, Mr. Chen," she said frigidly. "Looks to me like you could use a taste of your own medicine, among other things."

And there it was, that change she had been waiting for all along. His face turned ugly and cruel and at that moment, she was afraid for her life.

But then it smoothed out. His face became as blank and emotionless as a block of marble. _He must be a master at poker,_ she thought wryly to herself.

"How do your parents feel about your rebellious ways, Miss Chandler?" he asked almost conversationally.

She grinned mockingly. "You don't have to worry about that, Mr. Chen, not for one second. I've always treated them with the utmost respect and obeyed them in everything. I don't necessarily feel inclined to treat venomous snakes who prey on the weak and helpless the same way however."

He snickered then, looking over at his henchmen. "Is she for real?" he asked no one in particular. "Seriously, no one has ever talked back to me like this before. Particularly _a woman_," he said, enunciating the last part in her face.

She smirked wider. "Taken aback by it? Maybe even put off?" she challenged.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I might have been some other time, but…no not right now." He stared for a moment, which was unnerving and the shrugged. "In any case, as delightful as it's been to chat with someone as…engaging as yourself, I'm afraid I have more important things to do. Boys," he snapped his fingers. "Take this little girl to the southern exit of Chinatown. Until we meet again, Miss Chandler."

And with that, he nodded to a man behind her and a blindfold was suddenly obscuring her vision.

"Hey! No, let me go! Let me!-"

But she was abruptly cut off as the chloroform was clamped over her nose again and she was once more drifting into unconsciousness.

Claire felt sick as she started to wake up. The world spun mercilessly, nauseating her even though she was sure she was lying down. Her vision was blurry and her stomach cramped as well as threatened to make her throw up. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to take several deep breaths until she felt some semblance of balance come back. Opening her eyes she noticed several things; one, she was lying down on something soft and plushy. Another, it swung gently back and forth, like a porch swing. Hence, her earlier nausea.

She also noticed that she was staring up a wooden ceiling remarkably similar to the one on the porch of her house.

In a flash she was off the chair and on the floor, all the color draining from her face at her horrifying revelation. Gasping, she choked back the vomit, striving to make it inside first. Instead, she changed her mind and bolted for the side of the house, leaning over the rail as her stomach emptied itself.

Gasping and shaking, she stumbled into the house, feeling as flimsy and unstable as a piece of paper. Her fingers trembled as she dialed the clinic number for Thomas Jefferson University Hospital.

"Thomas Jefferson University Hospital, how may I assist you?"

"Hello, my name is Claire Felicity Chandler, I'm fifteen years old and I've been coming to Thomas Jefferson for most of my life," she said nervously. Soundlessly she face-palmed. She didn't sound very much like someone to be taken seriously.

"I see, and what seems to be the problem?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked blandly.

"I-I-I have a question. Um…how would someone-a woman-know if say…a guy had done…uh…you know…to her, while…she was unconscious?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you want to say Miss Chandler. Can you elaborate?"

"Well, you know," she stammered, feeling agitated and defensive. "That thing adults do on HBO and in _Playboy,_ I think. Only the woman _doesn't_ want to."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Miss Chandler," she said in a not-so-bland voice. "I believe what you are referring to is known as 'rape'. I'm afraid there's not much information on the subject of unconscious rape, but many of the first signs it has occurred are usually that the woman's clothes feel wrongly put on, there's some dizziness and headache as side effects from the drugs and/or there is inflammation and soreness in the genital areas and possibly some bleeding."

"Oh."

"Miss Chandler, is there any particular reason you are asking these questions?"

"A…friend," she muttered vaguely. "If I find out more, I'll call again." And she promptly hung up.

Well her clothes felt fine. She _was_ dizzy and nauseous, but she knew exactly why. And when she thought about it, nothing felt painful or out of the ordinary with her…genitals, as the receptionist had put it.

But she had to be sure.

Stepping into the bathroom, she did a check for blood; there was none. _Well good, that proves it._ If there had been, there would have been no doubt that she had been raped; but apparently she was untouched.

Walking back to the kitchen area, she forced her jangled nerves into something resembling calm and focus. She was not going to dissolve into a mess over the phone. If her day had been any indication, Jack's had probably been much worse since he'd actually been arrested.

The phone rang twice before someone picked up.

"Hello?" answered a soft-spoken, heavily accented female voice. The only female voice in the house, she noticed with relief.

"Hi Mrs. Lu, I was wondering if Jack was home?"

"I believe he is Miss Claire; allow me to go find him."

It seemed like ages before he finally picked up the other line.

"Hey."

"Jack!" she blurted out. "Oh Jack I'm sorry, I know you're probably in trouble, but could you come over for a few hours? I'm here all by myself and I know it's babyish, but I really don't want to be alone right now," she whimpered.

"No it's okay. Actually," he paused to, Claire assumed, make sure he was alone. "Nothing happened. The cop didn't arrest me, and my family knows nothing about today. Not unless someone decides to narc on me. The question is, are you okay? You sound really freaked."

"I-I'll tell you everything when you get here. Please just hurry," she begged.

"Okay. I'm just going to tell my parents you invited me over for a family dinner and then I'll be over in 10-15 minutes. Just stay calm and think positive. Whatever it is, I'm here to help you with it."

Half an hour later, Claire was this close to pulling her hair out and bursting into hysterics. If he didn't get here soon, she was leaving and going to the police.

She hoped it wouldn't come to that though. Even though she felt trapped in the house, she was equally afraid of stepping foot outside, in case the gang-members watched her house at night.

She was saved from anymore thoughts on that by the sound of the doorbell. That was strange; Jack didn't usually ring the doorbell.

Warily, she approached the door and checked out the window; as soon as she did, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and flung the door open.

"Hong's and Long's specialty pizza!" he exclaimed cheerily.

"You're late," she griped.

"Sorry. I just thought you might like some pizza. It took me longer than I thought it would."

"Fine. But I'm not hungry," she added, as they went into the living room.

"You may change your mind about that; it's your favorite."

"Really? Anchovies and extra cheese?" she inquired hopefully.

"Yeah." He made a face. "Blecch, I don't know how you can even put that slimy junk in your mouth. I decided to get the Hawaiian, so I wouldn't starve."

"I hope you share with me. That pineapple pizza is good stuff."

They ate in silence for awhile, happy to just hang out and chill for awhile. It was nice to be able to relax after such a harrowing day.

"So where are your parents?"

"Out. It's their weekly "Mediterranean" Monday with everyone from work. They went out for drinks basically, but will be home in a few hours.

"Interesting."

"Yeah."

The silence stretched on interminably.

"So tell me," Jack said casually after the last slice was gone. "How was your day? I doubt it was as stellar as mine, especially with the way you freaked out over the phone."

"Yeah…," she took a deep breath. "Jack I will tell you, but even after a few hours, I'm still messed up about it. Tell me about your day first."

"Um…okay. Well it's like this," he began.

And as Claire listened to him, she began to feel a glimmer of hope and excitement that she had not been able to feel since Tammy's funeral. Apparently, the cop who had arrested Jack had just been trying to protect him. And not only that, the unit the cop was in was trying to figure out how to bring down the Chinatown Tong and Jack was going to help them by translating tapes they recovered!

"Wow, Jack…" she groped for words. "Yeah, your day was _a lot_ better than mine."

"Which you still haven't said anything about…" he prodded.

"Yeah." _Deep breaths, Chandler, deep breaths._

"Okay, like right after I saw you being arrested, I kinda lost it. I mean, I was really _ticked._ I attacked every scumbag on that corner and I guess I took them completely by surprise. It didn't occur to any one of them to turn around and subdue me, and within seconds they'd all fled the scene like frightened little girls." She smiled at the memory.

"I got cocky. I was feeling pretty proud of myself and so I didn't notice the snake who snuck up behind me to force chloroform down my nose." She smiled sardonically. "And so, I woke up in some underground warehouse, and there was Mr. Bo Lin Chen, _smiling_ down at me." Just the thought of it made her blood boil. "He was so smug, so pleased at his advantages, _his control_ over me. I was barely able to think clearly, or even move right because of the drugs forced on my system. So basically, he had me kidnapped in order to gloat and before I can blink, I've been drugged _again._ But that's not even the worst part." She closed her eyes. "The next thing I know I'm waking up on the porch swing of my own house. Jack," she leaned forward. "_He knows where I live_. What am I going to do?" she whispered frantically. "I even thought…I even-" she couldn't finish. It was too much as she finally dissolved into tears.

He immediately switched to big brother mode, something he'd become accustomed to since the loss they'd both suffered.

"What do you mean? You even thought what?" he asked. "Claire…"

"I don't wanna say," she mumbled.

"You'll feel better if you talk about it, get it out of your system," he reassured her.

"I thought he had…_**forced**_," she choked out "himself on me while I was out of it. I woke up on the front porch swing and…and…" unable to go any further, she sobbed into his chest.

"Hey!" he cried as she crumpled in on herself. "Hey, you'll be okay. Just don't cry. I can't stand to see women cry," he murmured softly, as he put an arm around her. "God, I want to kill that SOB," he whispered intensely.

"I shouldn't have been so stupid," she sobbed. "I should have just walked away instead of starting something-"

"No! Don't you dare start blaming yourself; this is nobody's fault but the walking Green Gang Master's."

Confused, she temporarily stopped crying. "What?" she asked weakly.

He blushed. "Never mind-it's a reference to a mafia group that used to exist around the time my parents immigrated here. Nothing important, really."

"Oh." She shrugged, not really interested. They both fell silent again.

"Look," Jack began, breaking the silence. "Did he _really_…you know….do that to you?"

"No," she stated immediately. "No, I checked right away to see if that had happened to me. The hospital said no, there was no damage to indicate-"

"You went to the hospital?"

"_No,_ Jack," she sighed exasperatedly. Really, couldn't she have two seconds to finish a sentence? "I talked to a nurse on duty over the phone, okay?"

"Okay," he said quietly. "Claire, what I'm getting at is this: No matter what happened today, we can let anything hold us back. I feel like I'm getting so close to finding out exactly which one of those leeches took Tam's life. And the harder we push, the rougher they'll get with us."

"Thanks Jack, I hadn't figured that out," she answered caustically.

He ignored her. "They're scared, because we aren't. Evil triumphs when good men do nothing, and that's all that's been happening since forever in this town. Whatever you do, don't let this scare you; that's exactly what he's hoping for."

She sat there silent for a moment.

"I know," she responded quietly. "I know what you're getting at. I'm not going to give up on Tammy. I _refuse_ to abandon her." Her eyes blazed. But just as quickly as the fire came, it extinguished, leaving her eyes vacant. "I need time away though, I think. I don't know if I could look at him again without running away. My instincts scream for me to just take off and keep going until he's nowhere."

"I know," he assured her. And no one's saying you have to go right back out tomorrow and keep fighting him as if nothing was wrong. Just…don't let this freak you out so bad that you let him keep you from ever going outside again. All that will do is trap you in the last place you want to be in: his control."

And I'll be _damned_ if he gets that power over me."

"Damn straight," he agreed. "Hey, do you want me to stay here until your parents come home?"

"Yeah, that'd be great actually." She paused. "Maybe we can talk about what we'll do next. Has your detective friend found out anything about who actually killed her?"

As he launched enthusiastically into where exactly the investigation was going, Claire allowed herself a small, secret smile. In the end, everything that would happen to them during the course of the investigation, no matter how bad, mattered about as much as a drop of water in the endless ocean. If Tammy's murder was solved, it not only meant peace for her soul, but maybe a beginning for Chinatown as well; a way to show them that there was no reason to hide from the American law and allow their own to continually shove their faces in the dirt.

_Hang on Tammy; they almost have them._


	5. I Just Died in Your Arms

_**August 12**_

Compared to that afternoon near mid-July, the rest of the month had passed by rather uneventfully. She and Jack still dug around, trying to find even the most trivial clue that would point them in the right direction.

The truth of the matter was, they had no idea of what they were doing; it was the police's job to use the resources they themselves didn't have and the training the two teenagers had never been able to get to fit the meager puzzle pieces together into something cohesive and certain. They merely stumbled along, trying to figure out the best way to find something that wasn't there. The trail to her murder had to be stone cold and any evidence would have been either worn away with time and elements, or deliberately destroyed. She wasn't about to admit it, but she was starting to give up.

Truth be told, she was actually rather suspicious. On that day so many weeks ago when Jack had that encounter with Detective Bianchi, she had almost begun to feel relief and hope that this mess, this chaotic injustice would soon be put to rights now that she knew they were working to undermine the structures of the Tong and at least trying to solve Tammy's murder. But within a few weeks, it had begun to feel as though life had become the same as it was before, that once again the detectives weren't going to do anything further with her case. What _was it_ about this case that made the detectives so slow, apathetic in solving it? Why weren't they doing more? They could easily put a stop this sort of thing if they pushed hard enough. Wasn't the point of the law to deliver justice? Why couldn't they be bigger than the bullies who currently ran this place and kick them out? What could be stopping them?

Sitting at the kitchen table, she puzzled over these mysteries with a cold glass of Pepsi on one side and a book on the history of American Chinatowns she'd borrowed from the library on the other. She held her head and groaned quietly; she didn't know what else to do. If this were anyplace else in the world, she wouldn't be so surprised at the lack of justice, but learning that people could get away with murder right here in Philadelphia, a cornerstone city in the American landscape, had been almost too much of a shock. She and Jack had been trying so hard for so long, she was sure they had worn themselves into hollow, dead husks of people. She didn't know about herself much, but she could clearly see the changes in him; the loss of his first love had driven him nearly insane with grief. Now looking at him, the anger and almost mad drive he had used against the Dragon boys to keep himself from looking too closely at his feelings had burned out and faded quickly. Now when she saw him, she saw someone broken, lifeless, an unrecognizable mess that refused to be picked up. The closest description of him she could think of was _zombie._ He still physically resembled the old Jack, but the cold, empty eyes and the slow shuffling gait were nothing like the carefree, sunny boy she had known before Tammy died. If she were honest with herself, she would admit she was exhibiting the same symptoms as he. Would they ever recover from the devastating loss of someone as irreplaceable and amazing as her? She knew deep down, that if Jack did survive these first few months without her, it would be a miracle if he ever found love again. She didn't profess to know what True Love was, or how it worked, but what they had together…she had never seen anything like it before. It had been mesmerizing to watch: the good times, the fights, (no breakups) the strange teasing, the way they looked at each other as though they were in perfect synchronization with each other's thoughts and feelings, as though they were two parallel lines of symmetry that were always just exactly in tune with each other. Tammy had from the first encounter enhanced both of their lives with her warmth and her spunky attitude. And with Jack, she had changed his life from, _okay_ to _phenomenal. _Even when they had just been friends, Jack's face always lit up when she entered the room and when they finally became a couple, everything changed, even though it was mostly the same. Their lives had been fused together, and it had been a testament to Jack's emotional strength that he hadn't succumbed to the immense pain of having her so savagely wrenched away from him and simply died. In short, Tammy had made his life worth living. Without her, Jack's symmetrical line just turned into a scribbled mess.

She sighed, wearily cradling her head in her hands; when exactly had her life become such a chaotic, complicated mess? She was only fourteen for Pete's sake; life wasn't supposed to be this serious!

She yelped when the phone rang, startling her from her deep reverie.

"Hello?"

"Claire," came Jack's voice, low and frantic. "I-I-I can't talk long, but I really need someone to come over to the store and watch Warren for me. Can you please? It's literally life or death."

"Yeah hold on, I'll be there soon!" She grabbed her purse as she talked. "Why, what's happened?"

"It's Stacey Lee. The Dragon Boys snatched her from Warren and they'll kill her if no one pays the ransom. _Please_ hurry, they could kill her at any time!"

"Hurrying!" she exclaimed.

Making it to the store in record time, she practically threw herself through the door, gasping and wheezing.

"Get going," she panted. "Get your little cousin." She collapsed behind the counter, to catch her breath, watching him as he ran out to catch the nearest bus.

After she managed to slow her accelerating heart, she chanced a glance at little Warren. Standing next to the boxed rice, he looked absolutely miserable and about ready to cry.

"Warren?" she called softly. "Warren, are you okay? What happened?"

"Leave me alone," he replied sullenly.

She backed off. "Okay Warren," she said understandingly. "I won't bug you, but I'm here if you need me." And with that, she sat down and pulled some notes from her purse.

About halfway through them, she paused as she noticed a shadow looming over her shoulder.

"Warren?" She turned to face him.

He simply stared at her. His eyes were filled with pain, brimming with unshed tears.

"Hey, it's all right," she comforted, taking him in her arms.

The wracking, pitiful sobs that tore through him just about broke her heart.

"Oh Warren, don't cry. Jack knows what he's doing; he won't let anything happen to Stacey."

"It's my fault!" he blurted out against her shirt.

"What's your fault?" she murmured, as she rubbed his back.

"It's my fault Stacey was kidnapped; I was supposed to protect her and look out for her. I knew better than to take her to that arcade, and if anything happens to her or to Jack, it will be because I was so stupid!"

"No! No, that's not true!" she cried vehemently. Holding him by the shoulders, she looked him squarely in the eye. "Now listen, _none_ of this is your fault, none of it. You're just a little boy; you can't be giving yourself so much responsibility for what happened. Sure, you're the big brother and you're supposed to protect her, but you can't do everything! You still need to be a kid yourself."

"But Dad told me that I have to keep her safe and that she looks up to me….I bet not anymore. She'll never trust me again. I don't think she'll even speak to me."

She couldn't speak for a moment at that. What was wrong with his parents? _Why _couldn't they hire a babysitter sometimes, instead of putting it _all_ on Warren? Sure it was understandable that he be accountable for his sister every once in awhile; after all, he was ten, going on eleven, almost old enough to be considered a built-in babysitter. But not yet! Weren't children in Chinatown allowed to have their childhood at all? Children needed to be allowed that time for as long as they could….

None of this she could say to Warren though. The poor boy was inconsolable enough as it was, and the last thing she was going to do was paint anyone's parent's in a bad light, especially to an impressionable, possibly very loyal, son.

"Warren…Stacey loves you. She's probably going to be very scared and very upset when she comes back, but you will still be her big brother and even if it does happen that she doesn't speak to anyone for awhile, I don't think she will blame you. _You_ didn't kidnap her, the Dragon Boys did. But even if she was mad at you at first, I'd bet everything I have, that she would forgive you soon enough." She smiled fondly. "I've noticed with kids that they forgive the ones they love much faster than grown-ups do."

He seemed to be listening. A small, watery smile danced the edge of his lips as he thought about what she said. "You really think so? You really think that Stacey won't hate me?"

"How could such a sweet little girl hate anybody? Much less, her favorite big brother?"

He laughed. "Yeah I guess you're right," he conceded.

She laughed back. "Hey," she said. "If your parents ever need someone else to help with watching her, could you give them my number?" she paused as she grabbed a strip of paper and jotted her number down, even though she knew that she would never hear from them.

"This way, we could hang out sometime," she explained as she handed the tab to him.

"Yeah, that'd be really cool." He grinned.

She sighed. Finally, a positive moment.

"So it's a-"

She was interrupted the loud shrill of a honking horn.

"Hey!" someone yelled outside. "Whoever owns the brat needs to come and claim her!"

Oh how rude! Both Claire and Warren were outside before he even finished his sentence. Warren was at Stacey's side in an instant.

"She's my sister," he piped up.

The kidnapper glanced at him with cold indifference before his eyes rested on Claire.

"And what's your business with the little snot, _Miss Thang?_" he mocked. His eyes coldly bore into hers.

She stared back just as icily. "Certainly none of yours, Danny Yo," she replied acidly.

"Oh, this isn't the time to back-talk me bitch," he snarled, taking a step towards her.

"Watch your filthy gutter-mouth in front of the children!" she hissed.

The force of the blow took her by surprise as she fell to the ground. Gasping in shock, she tried to push herself up only to suddenly feel the very heavy, very painful weight of spiked combat boots digging into her back.

"You want to try that again?" He loomed over her.

"Get…off…me…" she gasped, as she groped wildly for his ankle in an effort to push it off.

"What is going on here?" an angry voice demanded.

Immediately the booted foot left her back and in an instant she was hauled to her feet by the back of her shirt.

"Nothing, old man," he replied smoothly. "Just taking care of a pest control problem for you."

"Let go of me, you _filthy,_ thuggish **moron**!" she screeched, wrenching herself away from him. Breathing heavily, she turned to Mr. Lu. "My apologies, sir," she said carefully. "I was merely about to walk your niece and nephew home. Danny Yo was just…" she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Leaving," she finished flatly.

Mr. Lu said nothing. He merely glared at her coldly before turning abruptly and exiting inside of Hong's and Long's.

Meanwhile Danny Yo was livid. He stomped forward, about to continue what had been started. Before he knew what was happening, he was staring down the nozzle of a can of pepper spray.

"Watch it, snake," she snarled. She smiled sardonically. "Unless, you want an eyeful of cayenne pepper to contend with."

"If you think I'll forget this you little bitch, you've got another thing coming," he swore under his breath.

"Well then, it's a good thing I don't forget things easily either," she retorted nastily. "You can do whatever the hell you want with me, but you _ever_ touch any one of these little kids again…," she fought to keep control. "And I'll personally run a smear campaign against just you and give the cops everything I know. I'll do everything I can to see you behind bars. And I may or may not actually care about the cost to me." She was bluffing partly, but how she longed to see any of her threats actually happen. The desire was burned inside of her.

He could tell too. No longer mad, he just smirked at her in that maddening Dragon Boy way.

"Right, right. You can do whatever you want, babe, no _real_ skin off my nose. We both know you like your fantasies."

And with that, he turned and sauntered off down the street.

She watched him with narrow eyes, wishing she had the power to seriously _**hurt**_ him. The cold-blooded, hateful-

"Claire?"

She snapped back to the present. "Hey, Warren. Hi Stacey," she said carefully. "How are you doing?" she asked, fully addressing the little girl.

She didn't answer as she trembled fretfully and inched rather quickly behind her brother. The poor little thing was doing everything she could to avoid eye contact and to just hide.

"Hey Stacey," she said softly. "You want to go home? I understand that you've had a really hard day and probably just want to be left alone."

In small, jerky movements, she nodded.

Claire smiled sadly in return as her heart went out to the badly frightened girl.

"I'd like to walk you and your brother home. Would it be okay if I held your hand, so that the bad men don't get you again?"

She didn't say anything; squeezing her brother's arm, she stared pointedly at the ground, blinking rapidly.

"Stacey…it's okay, you don't have to be scared," her brother reassured her. He hesitantly went on, "Claire's nice, and she'll help us. Won't you?" he implored.

"Oh yes," she replied. "I would do anything to help you. Do you know, I am actually a little hungry." Reaching into her purse, she found her stash of cookies in a sandwich baggie. "Would you like an Oreo, Warren?" With this change of tactics, she was hoping that the little girl's trust could be gained if her big brother could show, rather than tell, that there was nothing to be afraid of from her.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed brightly. Taking one, he shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing contentedly.

No longer scared, she looked up curiously, her eyes saying much more than words could at this point.

Claire grinned; it was working. "Would you like a cookie too, Stacey?" she offered sweetly.

With the tiniest of smiles, she tentatively reached out and started to nibble on the edge of the first cookie after twisting them apart.

Claire smiled gently. "All right then. Let's all get home safe and sound. Warren, your hand," she instructed. He took it absently, his attention somewhere else entirely. But it took several moments of Claire hold her hand out patiently for Stacey to hesitantly put her hand in hers. Her hand was limp, but her arm was tense as though she would take any excuse to retract it and run.

It broke her heart, to see a little girl who had been trusting, fun-loving, vibrant and as playful as any other six year old child was now withdrawn and as easily frightened as a rabbit.

What was going to happen to her as a result of her kidnapping? What sort of person would she turn into after today's catastrophic events? Would she get the love and support she needed from her family?

And what about Warren? Was he about to get into huge trouble for his moment of weakness today when he had taken his eyes off his little sister for just one moment?

She groaned quietly. All these questions swirling around in her head were serving no purpose other than to give her a painful headache. She was going to need to talk to Jack about it when he got back from the Dragon Boy's lair.

Wait…there was something disconcertingly wrong with the current picture. She hadn't been able to reflect on it during that brief scuffle with Danny Yo, but now in the aftermath…it was all too obvious what is was.

_Where_ was Jack? Why hadn't he been the one to bring back Stacey? She now realized that she knew absolutely nothing about what had happened to Jack, _if_ anything had happened to Jack. Terror gripped her heart as she realized anything could have happened to him. Right at this moment he might be in a torture chamber begging for his life, or he might already be dead and his body already disposed of never to be heard from again. She fought the rising tide of panic in her chest, hoping that she was maintaining a calm, reassuring façade for the sake of the little ones on either side of her.

In fact, she all but held her breath the rest of the way to their house, trying to think of everything that would possibly distract her from the awful possibilities just lurking in the background of her mind. As she cordially bid the both of them goodbye, she kept her movements as controlled and formal as possible as she left their front porch and started walking to her own home. Once she turned the corner at the end of the street though, she took off running, allowing the tightly controlled panic to burst free within her, growing until it consumed her.

She couldn't run forever though; about halfway to the bus stop, she trailed to a stop, gasping and panting for air. Her sides felt as though they had been recently pummeled, and she almost went to her knees at the force of her exhaustion. She staggered forward anyway, hoping that as soon as she caught her breath she could just start up again.

"Claire!"

She ignored that voice. She really didn't want to talk the owner of that voice when the life of her best friend was in such danger.

"Claire_ Chandler!_"

A hand reached out and forcefully turned her around so that she faced a very irritated Ling Lu.

"Why didn't you answer? I have to talk to you," he said hotly.

She sighed in exasperation; she _really_ didn't have time for this. "Fine then, Ling, what is it that's _so important_ you have to manhandle me on my way home?"

He frowned in distaste as he replied. "I didn't _manhandle_ you; I need to talk to you and you need to listen, as this concerns you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Fine, Ling," she said. "I'm listening."

"My father is angry; he is appalled at the lack of respect you have for the authority in Chinatown and most especially the way you speak to Bo Lin Chen, who is a very close, very old family friend. He warns you that if you want to keep Jack as a friend that you will learn to be submissive to those better than you-"

"Excuse me?" she interrupted, her voice dangerous and low. "You mean, submissive to little snots like you?" her eyes narrowed and she advanced towards him. "Someone like you, who blindly follows the rules without knowing what they're for, who doesn't care whether or not they're good rules and jealously backbites those who are able to look beyond appearances, those who do have the courage to ask questions and think outside the box?" She ferally shoved a finger a finger in his nervous face and hissed. "Those who are like _your brother_ you mean?" She stepped away and spat on the ground. "You disgust me. Well I have news for you, Ling. You don't need to hide behind your father when you have a beef with me. You can come right out and say exactly what you think of me, and I will not hesitate to tell you my feelings about you either. But don't think that you have any power over Jack; he can do what he wants, be friends with whom he wants, and if you think a little tantrum in that direction will stop him, you've got another thing coming. With all that he's been through in the past couple of months, I would actually be good and scared of him if I were you."

With that, she turned and stormed away, unexpectedly re-energized for the rest of the way to the bus stop.

As soon as she walked through the door, she wearily collapsed on the couch. _A few minutes,_ she thought. _Just a few more minutes and I'll call the Lu house. Hopefully Mrs. Lu will answer again…_

But just then her older brother Dominic walked in. "Oh there you are," he said. "Jack's on the phone for you."

The relief that washed through her was incredible. With a mumbled "Thanks Dom," she was in the kitchen on the phone faster than you could say "Dragon Boy."

"Jack! Jack where have you been, I've been worried sick!"

"There's no need. They didn't touch a hair on my head," he said.

She paused. There was something in his voice that sounded really off to her.

"Jack what happened? If they didn't beat you or torture you, what happened?"

"Everything. Aside from being caught with a cassette recorder, I was just knocked on my rear…by Bo Lin Chen."

Okay, this was _really_ not making sense. "What are you saying Jack? Have…have you made a breakthrough or something?

"That's one way of putting it; why not? After all-"

"Say what you mean!" She was fast losing her patience again. "Please get to the point and stop beating around the bush!"

He sighed deeply from the other side of the line. "There is no good way to say this, is the point. I'm…I'm still not able to wrap my mind around it. We've been lied to Claire," he said bluntly. "And we were totally looking at this the wrong way."

"Uh…how? I know we haven't been getting anything but…it's not like we're alone anymore. The cops are still trying to solve her case, right?"

The line went dead silent.

"Jack?"

"You wanna know why there hasn't been anything new on Tam's case, why no progress has been made at all?" he asked, his voice hard. He went on heatedly. "Cause as far as the cops are concerned, it's just another sad thing that happened in Chinatown, but it's time to move on and get some of that blood money from the ones who keep the vicious circle going!"

"Wait, wait…Are you saying _Bo Lin Chen_ told you this! The Bo Lin Chen who has Chinatown in a stranglehold on the Tong's orders, the Bo Lin Chen who stalked me for months trying to intimidate me and then forcibly kidnapped me, the Bo Lin Chen who ordered the kidnapping of your six year old cousin _just today-_"

"Yes dammit, that one!" he exploded. "Stop repeating his name over and over, my nerves are already frickin' shot!"

"How can you trust anything that venomous viper has to say?" she yelled. "His specialty just happens to be deception, among other things!"

"You know, I thought of that so I decided to go visit the flophouse today just to be sure that the cops on the Philly force really were trying to do the right thing and you know what I found? Dozens and dozens of tapes all about Chen and the Dragon boys smuggling heroin, ordering the blueprints for whorehouses, recruiting streetwalkers, ordering kidnappings….orders for the thugs to shoot up the Summer Festival."

"Why should that mean-"

"Because if they really were going to use all that as evidence and bring it into a court of law, they would have done so already. All of it was hidden away, like a secret insurance policy."

"Oh dear God," she whimpered. Was the ground disappearing from under her feet?

"That's not all though; I walk out and there's Detective Bianchi, acting all confused and innocent, even though Chen lines his pockets all the time with the profits that come from doing evil. And then when I asked him about it…he didn't deny anything. How am I supposed to live in a world where an honest person falls so easily under the influence of a twisted, corrupt lord?" He sighed disgustedly. "Those tapes were never going to see the light of day, they would have just kept piling up until the flophouse was raided or Bianchi destroyed them himself."

"So now what, Jack? Are we going to take them to the police? Do we even know which ones to trust?"

"There's one that I've talked to the past couple of weeks, Stillman I think. He seems honest, so he's the first one I'll go see. I've listened to all the tapes. And now, I have proof that Chen caused Tam's death. He'll pay if it's the last thing I do."

"Oh my gosh…he _killed_ her?"

"Might as well have. He ordered his goons to shoot up the Dragon Boat Festival and he didn't care who died or how many. All he wanted was the power that came with new turf."

She sighed. "Well at least now we know who killed-or rather who caused her death, and more importantly, we can do something about it."

"Tonight," he said firmly. "You go ahead and get some sleep, but me, I'm gonna go to the cops right after I tell my Dad something he needs to hear."

Even though she didn't want to, she found herself nodding in affirmation. "I want to Jack…but we're in this together. Shouldn't I come with you?"

"No, you've already done so much. I know you're exhausted, having to go back and forth today to help me and my cousins. You get some sleep, rest easy. Tam's justice isn't going anywhere."

"But Jack-"

"No buts," he insisted firmly. "This part I have to do on my own. It's extremely personal and the last thing I want for you is to be caught in the crossfire between my family and me." His voice softened. "Hey, I'm going to call you just as soon as the sun is up, and we'll take the bus to the police station together."

She smiled sleepily. "That sounds real good Jack. Okay, I'll be seeing you first thing in the morning, you got that?"

"Sure do. Good night."

"Good night."

_**August 13 5:09 AM**_

_Brrrrring! Brrrrrring!_

Gasping, she shot straight up in bed as the phone continued to ring. She huffed tiredly, annoyed at the inconsiderate person who apparently didn't know that some people preferred to sleep _after_ the sun went down.

About half a minute later it was answered however, and the shadow of her dad appeared in the doorway to her room.

"Claire!" he whispered harshly. "Claire, are you awake?"

"Yes, Daddy," she answered. "Is the phone for me?"

"Yes, sweetheart. It's pretty serious, so I'd get right to the kitchen if I were you."

Immediately her guard went up; it was serious?

Dread grew in the pit of her stomach as she stumbled through a dark house to the only phone the family had.

"Hello?"

There was a sniffle on the other side of the line. "Hello Miss Claire," said Mrs. Lu. Her voice was so heavy with sorrow and despair that the dread in her stomach spiked significantly. "I know it is late, and I apologize for waking you and your family and such an inappropriate hour…but-" she sobbed, the sound tearing out of her sweet, soft-spoken voice like a shard of glass ripped from a wound. "I know that Jack would have wanted you to know if something had happened to him."

Icy terror replaced her dread in an instant. "What do you mean Mrs. Lu?" she asked in a shaky voice. "What happened to him? Is he going to be all right?"

"No! No, no, no my son is dead," she wept. "He was shot and no one knows why. The police found him lying on his face, with two bullets in his back and one in his head!" She sobbed deeply. "My son, my youngest son!" she moaned. Soon all Claire could make out was a string of incoherent Chinese phrases, all tumbling from her mouth one on top of the other.

"No….," she whispered. The force of her own grief rose up in her like an oncoming hurricane and she staggered under the overwhelming loss of her second best friend.

"No, it's not true. It's not true!" she wailed. "He was only seventeen!" she sobbed. "Please, please I need to see him, I need to see the body!"

By this time, Mrs. Lu had regained some of her composure, and took on the role of comforter. "Miss Claire, I have spoken to my husband and we are planning to hold the funeral three days from now. You are welcome to attend and I sincerely hope you will."

She tried to smile through her tears. "Yes, Mrs. Lu, I will most certainly come to the funeral. Wild horses couldn't stop me from being there. I…I loved your son as deeply as I love my own brother. I think I still do." Her breath hitched as she said this. "I just…can't believe he's gone," she cried softly.

"I will watch for you, Miss Claire," Mrs. Lu replied, her voice low with sorrow. "The funeral is going to take place at the mission church near our store. I will be expecting you."

With that, she hung up.

Claire stared at the phone forlornly. She knew the mother of her best friend had a hard time with emotions as did any other traditional Chinese person, but…to be suddenly alone with her grief like that was…frightening. No one was going to be there for her like the last time.

She sat shakily into the nearest chair. How could this happen _again_? When she and Jack had lost Tammy, it had been akin to seeing the end of the world. If that had been unbearable, what possible word out there would describe _this _disaster?

Sobs rose in her chest as that all too familiar cutting sensation hacked at her heart, breaking it again. The fresh racking grief raked at her, scarring her for a second time in three short months.

How could she ever have been so naïve as to believe that there would be any justice, let alone a happy ending in a place as corrupt and dangerous as Chinatown? As dearly as she loved the streets, the smells, the sights, the people,-she had never been allowed to forget that those who ran the beloved community were people who craved power and chaos and cared little to none about the people they stepped on, or hurt, or _killed…_

"Claire, sweetie?"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Yes Mom, I'm in here," she answered.

She sat silently as she watched her mother's silhouette slowly form in the kitchen. Outside, the sun was just starting to rise, only hinting at daylight that was to come. There was just enough light, though barely, for her to see the sympathy written on her face.

"Oh Claire, baby I'm so sorry," she whispered as she held her daughter close. "There, there," she soothed as the sobs racked her body. "It hurts now, because we all loved Jack too, but now, nobody can ever hurt him again. Think of him at peace, sweetheart. Think of him and Tam seeing each other again."

Claire sniffled and looked up. "You really think so, Mom?" she asked tearfully.

She smiled gently. "Yes, Claire-bear, I do. And after all, considering how torn up he's been, don't you think it's better that he doesn't have to suffer anymore?"

"I guess I do…" she admitted. "But right, now, I feel like I want him to knock on the door so that when he opens it, I can hug him close and feel him breathe in and out….like he was alive," she choked.

Her mother nodded in understanding. "That's normal honey. It's normal to want him back."

Needless to say, she did not go back to sleep that night.

**Author's Note:** For those of you that read this story, I need to apologize for the lack of quality in this chapter. I just got a new beta and she's having computer problems, so she had no way of helping me make this better before posting it. I'd wait, but it's been too long. Not only that, but there are some parts I could have made better, but…I'm just too tired to do it. I've been going back and forth all day between this story and packing for college. Anyhow, I hope I will get some reviews; some encouragement or criticism would be highly welcome.


	6. Winner Takes All

_**August 16**_

Standing in front of her dresser mirror, Claire stared listlessly at her other self. With her skin a sallow, unhealthy pallor and the circles under her eyes so pronounced that they made her eyes look bruised, it was no wonder that even she saw herself as unfit to attend Jack's funeral. What would his father think if she showed up looking like one of the dead herself?

The truth was, she could go at any time during the first week after his death; while there had been a wake the first day, the days following would provide many opportunities for her to go to one of his prayer ceremonies and then on the seventh day, there would be a procession through Chinatown until they set his body in the hearse and proceeded to his grave…

Choking back a sob, she began to make minute adjustments to her appearance. First, foundation.

Concealer.

Blush.

Lipstick.

Running the brush through her hair.

Done.

Satisfied with everything, including the formally beautiful white dress with gold buttons she'd also worn to Tammy's funeral, plus the same matching tights and dress shoes, she grabbed her purse and plodded out the door, making sure to arrive as early as she could. She only hoped she had the strength to do this again every day for the next few days until he was finally put to rest.

_**August 19**_

Numb and drained, she watched indifferently as Mr. Lu spitefully tore up the calling card Jack's detective had just offered. She wanted to care, but found that while mired in the deep recesses of her own grief and despondency, she simply couldn't.

What had happened to her? She felt as though she were a still, floating body underwater, staring sightlessly at everything and nothing. Did grief and despair really affect people this deeply? Before these last few months, she'd had no idea. Having the friends she did in Jack and Tammy, as well as a good life with her own small family, she'd never known anything else but the innocent happiness that came with those small pleasures.

Now…now she was sure she understood to some degree, how Mr. Lu felt. Being shattered in this way made people withdraw and close off from others. And the American police didn't and couldn't help, from his point of view. She found, given recent events, that her view was not much different than his. Having seen firsthand the way the Philly police had handled Tammy's case, she didn't really trust them to treat Jack's murder any different.

Her head snapped up as a new, familiar sensation took root. Anger, pure and intense, it came on fast, boiling her blood. She shuddered as it grew within her and glared at the cop. She had failed to see Tammy get justice, but if anything, she would be _damned_ if the same thing happened to Jack!

Striding briskly, she felt the new energy rush through her and walked even faster towards the rebuffed officer. They had screwed up the first time, but not again! If Jack's case became inactive, she would find a lawyer herself and make them look. After all, her uncle Charles owned a law firm in New York City. Maybe he could help her out in some way.

But just as she was about to reach him, another man entered her vision, one with a lean build, shoulder-length hair, and a mocking smile.

"No," she whispered, stricken. "No, not again _please!_" she screeched as a hand covered her mouth and forced the bag over her head again.

Screaming and kicking, she stopped breathless when they removed the bag and stepped away. Her heart sank as she realized that this looked just like the same place she had been kidnapped to before.

"Hello again, Miss Chandler," Bo Lin Chen greeted pleasantly.

She whirled towards him. _**"You!" **_she shrieked. _"You caused all of this! _You hateful, insidious, _**murdering**_ **SNAKE!"**

She screamed and rushed at him. "I hope you die! I'll kill you myself! I'll kill you and take from you the same way you took from me! You'll die **SLOWLY!**_**"**_

He watched impassively as she continued to screech and claw and fight her way towards him, railing all the ills upon him she could think of. The only thing holding her back was the men he'd assigned for himself that day.

It didn't take long for her to slump over, exhausted by her efforts; she'd had little sleep or food since learning of what happened to Jack.

"Feel better?" he smirked down at her.

He drew back sharply with a yell as three welts on his cheek started to bleed superficially.

She gazed wrathfully at him. "Only when your roasted head is served to me on a golden platter."

"See how spirited she is," he laughed, dabbing at his cheek with a handkerchief. "She reminds me of a wild horse."

"I'll show you horse!" she screamed. Beyond rationality she delivered the kick without even thinking about it.

He dodged it easily, still smirking in that insufferable way.

"Please, you must calm yourself Miss Chandler. Working yourself up like this will only serve to make you sick."

"How _dare_ you mock my pain," she hissed. "Thanks to you and your frickin' goon squad, I have been sick ever since May 10th of this year. You took two of the only people that ever mattered to me. That's all you know how to do: take someone's life and destroy the lives connected to them without any care or thought of the consequences."

"Well there is where you are mistaken, young lady," he responded calmly.

"Don't you dare stand there and _lie_ to me when I can see the truth as plain as-"

"Why would I lie? You can't do anything about what has happened anyway."

"The hell I can't," she snarled.

He stared at her, his gaze as piercing as ever.

"There is nothing you can do about it," he repeated. "You are dealing with forces of whose power you have no idea. If you were smart, you and your young friend would have accepted that this is the way of Chinatown, mourned your loss, and moved on with your lives. At least that way you would still have each other."

"So that's why you killed Jack?" she challenged. "Because he didn't accept your murder and terror like a good little boy? Because he stirred up the hornet's nest?"

"Such strong accusations from someone who knows so little of the world," he chided.

"Thanks to you, I've learned quite a lot," she spat. "And now, thanks to you, I'll never see either one of my best friends again in this life."

"And you are quite sure of that?"

Not quite daring to believe he would have the audacity to inflict yet even _more_ pain, she slowly looked up at him.

"What are you getting at?" she asked suspiciously. She grinned ironically. "Don't tell me that Jack is somehow miraculously alive. Even I'm not that naïve."

"No," he laughed lightly. "Nothing quite so drastic as that." He paused. "No, my question was, are you sure it was my fault your friend met such a tragic end? You see," he went on. "You seem to be under the impression that I am this thug, this villain who spends his time finding ways to kill and torture others, leaving misery and hardship in my path." He grinned condescendingly. "Am I right?"

"On my part at least," she replied icily.

"I'm truly sorry for your loss, young lady, I really am. But your opinion of me just isn't true. You really want someone to impart blame? Take a second look at the Philadelphia Police Department…and a mirror as well."

She glared at him warily.

"So if I have this right, you're telling me that Jack and Tammy didn't die because of you, they died because of the police and because of _me_. I killed them, basically." She snorted derisively.

"That is one perspective of this issue at hand, yes," he replied calmly.

"'This issue at hand?' That's really the best you have?" she asked incredulously, her voice rising with every word. "Where in that convoluted logic is it even remotely plausible that I would do that to my friend? Jack and Tammy were everything to me! Aside from the obvious things like my alibi, my motive, my lack of knowledge concerning gun use, _everything_, I could never have done anything like that to anyone! The very thought repulses me." Her eyes narrowed. "Much like _you_ repulse me. Unlike you, I have a heart and the conscience that comes with it."

"I never said you actually shot him down, little girl," he responded, a hard edge in his voice. "Simply that your actions and his made the entire situation worse than it had to be. When a person challenges the status quo or 'stirs up the hornet's nest,' he should not be surprised when things immediately become more difficult or frightening or both. He should also not be surprised," he went on. "When important losses occur; because they do, hard and fast," he finished. His gaze was cold and penetrating as he stared at her.

The meaning of it all was not lost on her. "Are you threatening _me _now?" she gasped incredulously. "Me and my loved ones? Jack and Tammy weren't enough for you?"

"The Tong must be kept up and running at all costs; without the help of those involved, the people of Chinatown would fall apart without our structure and discipline."

"You mean without you and your Tong, there would be no one to control them and exploit them, using as much they could before tossing them aside like a dirty rag? You're probably right," she retorted.

With a sudden, savage shove, she was thrown to the floor. She cried out as her body hit the pavement and a familiar booted foot placed itself on her back. She stiffened as the click of a gun sliding into the safety echoed loudly across the room.

"Shall I take care of this disrespectful little bitch, boss?"

"Not today Danny. I think she understands our message quite clearly. So," he remarked as he picked her up. "Do we have an agreement?"

She spitefully slapped his hands away. "What agreement? You know, what I have trouble understanding is why you are even talking to me right now. If you were really serious about keeping yourselves out of jail, away from association with the criminal world, you wouldn't be threatening those who are close to me. You'd just go ahead and kill me; it would save you the sleepless nights worrying about whether or not I'd tell the cops anyway." Her face hardened. "So do it. Kill me in cold blood. You had no problem doing it to so many countless others." She smirked mockingly. "Or are you too afraid to do the dirty work yourself?"

He gazed at her with cold, appraising eyes, staring at her for a long time.

"Kill you? Why should I kill you? Nothing has to happen that you don't choose for yourself. You see, you still believe that I am a tyrant bent on destroying Chinatown, when in fact, you should have been looking at those cops you love so much all along!"

"Oh, we're back to _that _already?" she exclaimed with a roll of her eyes.

"What exactly do you know about that detective your friend Jack was working with? Seems like you need an education, little girl. So I'll let you in on the not-so-little secret I did Jack: Cops are not heroes. Cops are not good. They talk a good fight, but in the end, they're just like the rest of us criminals. For example, that detective I mentioned; he told Jack he was trying to bring us down, but the truth? He can't be bothered to do anything about the problems of Chinatown because of that small thing called a back payment! He's too busy lining his pockets with my money to do much of anything!"

She was about to retort, but something in his voice stopped her. And also something she remembered from the last talk with Jack she'd ever had….

_We've been lied to Claire_

_As far as the cops are concerned, it's just another sad thing that happened in Chinatown, but it's time to move on and get some of that blood money from the ones who keep the vicious circle going!_

_I decided to go visit the flophouse today just to be sure that the cops on the Philly force really were trying to do the right thing…Dozens and dozens of tapes all about Chen and the Dragon boys smuggling heroin, ordering the blueprints for whorehouses, recruiting streetwalkers, ordering kidnappings….orders for the thugs to shoot up the Summer Festival_

_That's not all though; I walk out and there's Detective Bianchi, acting all confused and innocent, even though Chen lines his pockets all the time with the profits that come from doing evil_

_He didn't deny anything._

Her blood ran cold.

"No…" she choked. "It's not true, it's not true…."

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is," he said condescendingly. "If only you knew how many cops and detectives there were that defected to our side, taking our drugs, our 'services'," he grinned cruelly. "Our money most of all; if there were ever a universal language, that would be money."

She jerked away from them, stepping spastically, hysterically.

"L-leave me alone. Never come near me again," she gasped as hot tears streamed down her face. "If I ever see you again, I will report you for harassment! W-we'll see where it goes from there."

"I think we know where it'll go from there."

A strangled moan escaped her lips as she turned and bolted for the nearest exit. Long after leaving behind the dank basement, she could still hear their coarse laughter ringing in her ears.

She couldn't even remember getting home as she slammed her bedroom door shut and dove for her bed. All she knew for hours was the horrifying sensation of the inside of her chest being ripped apart over and over and then being rearranged. The torrent of emotion pouring out of her seemed to go on forever. When it was finished, she lay there numb and hollow, too broken, she believed, to ever be repaired.


End file.
